


you make me sing (you're everything)

by kay_emm_gee



Series: Hands In, Aca-Bitches! [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Acapella, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 20:12:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7004686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kay_emm_gee/pseuds/kay_emm_gee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is such a freshman cliche to have a crush on a grad student TA, but Octavia can't help herself when it comes to Lincoln. </p>
<p>She can't help herself when it comes to music either, and it really is the best part of the semester when she joins Ark'N'Sass acapella group.</p>
<p>So music and Lincoln make up her freshman year, and somehow, by the end, she knows she doesn't regret a single moment thinking about either one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you make me sing (you're everything)

**Author's Note:**

> part of my multishipping acapella au for The 100 - don't need the rest of the parts for this to make sense, but they intertwine in some fun ways :)

Octavia wasn’t particularly nervous as she sat in the wide-semi circle of one-week musical volunteers that sprawled across the university stage. She was a freshman and new to this drama club tradition, but for someone who had grown up doing community theater, it still felt familiar. The goofiness and bravado of the actors, the quirky softness of the behind-the-scenes crew didn’t seem to change no matter the size or location of the theater. She was already scanning the crowd for fellow costumers, picking out a dark-haired girl with thick eyebrows and a gangly boy as possible candidates. Smiling at them both, Octavia breathed in the smell of dust and magic that always came with being on stage, even if their only audience was empty seats.

Then someone emerged from the wings, and her stomach flipped anxiously as she took in the guy’s broad shoulders and serious but soft smile.

He introduced himself as Lincoln, the graduate student who was going to be directing the drama club’s annual start-of-year one-week musical.

As she listened to him explain, in his deep quiet voice, the vision he had for this year’s production, she felt her skin warm. His eyes locked on hers for a brief moment, and Octavia couldn’t resist throwing a bright smile in his direction. He did a double take, and her heart flipped over.

Oh, she was _so_ screwed.

* * *

 

Having a crush on the musical’s grad student director was a serious problem for Octavia. One, because she kept almost running her hand under the sewing machine needle from being too distracted watching him. Two, because the whole premise of the one-week musical was to cast, rehearse, and put it up within one week, which meant she’d only have a one-week excuse to be around him constantly. Three, because Lincoln was a graduate student and she was a freshman and there was no way in hell they were even going to become close to being a thing.

It didn’t stop her from proudly showing him her progress on the costumes she had made by Wednesday, despite Jasper’s attempts to speed up her machine which in the end only caused it to make a whining noise whenever she went too fast.

“Very nice,” Lincoln said with a warm smile. Then he took a closer look and laughed. “You sewed chihuahua patches onto the hem?”

“I think Elle Woods would approve,” she replied. She bounced on her toes, anxious and excited that he had noticed.

He nodded in agreement, then handed her back the garment. “Keep up the good work.”

It was something he would say to any of the cast and crew, but Octavia nearly skipped back to her station because for some reason, it seemed to mean so much more when and how he said it to her.

* * *

 

Grounders was loud and crowded as it always was on Saturdays. There was also the added bonus of the bar being humid and sticky as the last bit of warm weather lingered into the beginning of October.

“Two Bud Lites please--” Octavia stopped dead, cash hanging limply from her raised hand. Bar patrons pushed at her back, eager to get their drinks. She didn’t move from her place though, staring straight at Lincoln behind the bar.

His expression was caught between amused and exasperated. Being a bartender here, Octavia figured he must run into this problem all the time-- _knowing_ someone was underage even if their (fake) ID told him otherwise. Still, she blushed as he raised his eyebrows at her.

“This going to be a problem?” She shouted over the pounding bass, words steadier than she expected them to be.

“You’re always a problem, Octavia Blake,” he called back as he took another order. His short sleeves tightened against his biceps as he pulled three draft beers, sliding them over the counter to the guys waiting without spilling a drop of foam. She grinned, and Lincoln rolled his eyes. Raising his fingers to his lips, he whistled, and a slightly older guy with a beard and swirling tattoo on his neck came over.

“Nyko, She wants two Bud Lites,” Lincoln said as he took over his co-workers side of the bar.

“Why can’t you get them for her?” he asked gruffly, knowingly.

Lincoln grinned, shrugged, then picked up a bottle of gin and began to pour. “I’m a little busy at the moment.”

The guy gave Lincoln, then her, a long, disapproving look. Octavia just grinned at him pleadingly.

He uncapped then slammed two tin bottles down on the chipped counter, pushing them towards her. She tipped him heavily in thanks, and he looked a little mollified. With a wink, she spun around, hoping Lincoln was watching her go.

Really, _really_ hoping.

* * *

 

Octavia found herself going back to Grounders a lot--on Saturdays for a night out, on Tuesdays for trivia, on Thursdays for dinner with Bell. Lincoln wasn’t always there, but when he was, she found him watching her almost as much as she was watching him. He didn’t even know he was doing it, because whenever she caught him, he would startle and then re-focus even harder on wiping the tables or cleaning glasses.

She started thinking of him more too. It was a little startling that whenever she drifted off in class, she found herself daydreaming about him. She still paid enough attention to take notes that were good enough to study from later, but as the leaves turned orange and gold, Lincoln was on her mind more and more.

The only time some part of her wasn’t thinking of Lincoln was during Ark’n’Sass practice. Making the acapella group had been her first real college success, besides not murdering her roommate. She had screamed when she got the acceptance email, causing Jasper to flip his plate and send overcooked peas all over their dining hall table. Monty had high-fived her, and then he had grinned stupidly five minutes later when he found out he got into the Waldentones. They both had comforted Jasper as he bemoaned the fact that he would be left alone, and Octavia took the chance to hint that he ask Maya to study with him when they had practice.

His crush on her wasn’t as prominent anymore, not now that Monty had kindly broken the news to him of her crush on Lincoln. Still, it was a little hard to be friends with him when he looked at her with that kind of hope sometimes. Maya was great. She had just enough kindness and sass to be good for Jasper, and he had a goofiness that would compliment her quietness. Monty was in agreement, and he had seconded her suggestion.

So as Jasper developed a new crush, and Octavia didn’t make any progress with hers, she threw herself into music. It had always been easy for her to lose herself in melody and lyrics, even when it was just her voice and Bell’s guitar. It was what had gotten them both through her parents’ fighting, through their divorce, through their mom’s lovesickness and later her death. Now it was what made a bad essay grade sting less, a stressful week more enjoyable. Harmonizing and laughing and arranging and talking with these girls who had been strangers and were now close friends was the highlight of her week, hands down.

Music and Lincoln filled the middle weeks of her first semester, until they finally collided. When Clarke asked for suggestions on new performing opportunities, Octavia couldn’t help herself.

“What if we perform at Grounders? They have an open mic night.”

Harper and Monroe exchanged a knowing eye roll--they were well aware of her crush--and Octavia stuck her tongue out at them. Thankfully, Clarke was too intrigued by the suggestion to notice.

“Can you get more details? That actually sounds great.”

Octavia grinned and nodded, insides dancing with excitement at having a very legitimate (if also self-created) reason to talk to Lincoln again.

* * *

 

“Your acoustics would be better if you set up the stage over there,” Octavia said as she hopped up onto a bar seat in Grounders the next afternoon.

“Hello to you too,” Lincoln quipped as he poured her a glass of water. “And I know. I’ve been telling Anya that for ages.”

She smiled as she sipped. “Is open mic night for solo singers only?”

“No, but that’s usually all we get.”

“Is acapella too uncool for your bar?”

“It’s not my bar.”

“Question still stands.”

“The more singers we have for open mic night, the better,” he responded. After a hesitant pause, he asked, “So you’re thinking of singing here?”

“Ark’N’Sass is, yeah.”

“Next week?”

Octavia wasn’t imagining the hopeful tone of his voice, she _wasn’t_. Her smile widened as she nodded. “You gonna be here?”

“I’m off that night.”

Her heart plummeted with disappointment, and it must have shown on her face, because Lincoln rushed to add, “But yeah, I’ll be here.”

She swelled with happiness again, especially when he seemed to grin at her with a new, excited glint in his eyes.

* * *

 

When they finally performed at Grounders, Octavia sang her heart out, as did the rest of the girls. The laidback, social energy of the crowd gave their numbers a new vibe, something a little edgier and rougher than the sound they usually put out. It was exciting, and they knew it was a momentary thing, so they threw themselves into it, enjoying the spontaneity and fleetingness.

So caught up, Octavia didn’t even see Lincoln until she was walking off the stage, tapping her hands on Harper’s shoulders. They locked gazes, and her breath caught at the awed look on his face. Ducking her head, she bumped her hips into Monroe’s to make herself seem unaware, cool, definitely _not_ flustered.

(She was so, so flustered).

“Just Coke,” he said to her when he finally pushed through the crowd to her side and handed her a drink. “I’m not going to risk this place’s license tonight.”

Octavia shrugged, a smile tugging at her mouth. “Music’s a better high anyways.”

Lincoln chuckled under his breath, and her stomach fluttered with excitement and nerves.

“Wanna come meet the stars?” she asked teasingly.

“I’d be honored.”

He fit right in with the Ark’N’Sass girls as well as their extended circle of friends. Clarke knew him from being in some of the studio art classes he TA-ed, and they laughed about some of the ridiculous projects that were assigned. Lincoln was gracious and funny and engaging without stealing the spotlight, and Harper gave her a conceding thumbs-up when no one else was looking. At that Octavia felt a pang of sadness, because he was _just right_ , and yet there was still so much standing between them.

It didn’t stop her from slipping out of the bar when he did, joking that she felt responsible for walking him home. “It’s what a lady does for a gentleman,” she teased as she fell into step beside him. “Because fuck gender roles.”

That had made him laugh, and his laugh made her cheeks flush.

The campus was quiet as they walked to his apartment, and she didn’t even notice she was shivering until he placed his jacket around her. His warmth blanketed her, and as she caught a whiff of his cologne that had seeped into the fabric, she started to feel a complete different kind of heat. When they reached the edge of campus and he paused, no doubt to tell her he could manage from there, Octavia popped up on her toes and pressed a determined kiss to his lips.

He sighed into her, moved a little bit closer, but as soon as his hands get her sides, he gently pushed her away.

“Octavia,” he said with reluctance.

“We can’t do this, I know,” she responded bitterly. She had known what his response would be--he was a good guy, and a good guy wouldn’t date a freshman--but she had _hoped._

“You don’t know--”

“I do, I really do. I’m a freshman, I’m too young to know what I want. I need to have experience with people my own age, who are going through what I am, who are at the same place in life as me.”

He managed a wry smile. “Okay, maybe you do know.”

“It’s bullshit, and it sucks.” She grabbed his large hand and squeezed.

Lincoln closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Doesn’t change anything.”

“I know.”

He surprised her by softly taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her head so he could press a kiss to her cheek. “Good night, Octavia.”

“Night.”

She watched him walk away, only realizing she was still wearing his coat when he was too far away to call back.

* * *

 

Octavia threw herself into the college experience, much to the joy of her friends and the slight concern of her brother. There was no hiding her hangovers during their Sunday breakfasts, but he was doing an impressively good job of biting his tongue and letting her make her own mistakes. That was their deal, when she had decided to attend undergrad where he was getting his master’s degree. So far, he was sticking to it.

Then came the mid-fall acapella party. Hosted in the Waldentones’ captain’s room, it was a night of drinking and singing and bonding. It wasn’t even midnight yet, and Octavia’s throat was sore from belting out song after song. Her heart was full, the giddiness and glow of being surrounded by close friends enough to push out the panging ache of missing Lincoln.

Then over the music she heard her brother’s voice, angry and loud. Brow furrowing, she turned to find him towering over Clarke. His cheeks were red and his mouth pinched. Pushing her way over, she stepped into the (very little) space between her brother and her captain.

“Why are you here? What the fuck, Bell?”

“What the fuck, O?” He repeated with a shout. “Why the hell are you involved with a graduate student?”

“We’re not involved,” she snapped.

“Don’t lie to me. I heard some dicks making smart remarks about it at the grad student mixer tonight. Almost punched them before Miller fucking admitted they were telling the truth.”

“If your sister says she’s not involved, then why don’t you believe her?” Clarke interrupted, placing a hand on Octavia’s shoulder in solidarity.

“Stay out of this, princess,” Bellamy sneered.

“Stop being a dick, and maybe I will,” she shouted back.

“We kissed _once_!” Octavia argued. “And it was me kissing him! He put a stop to it for all the same bullshit reasons that have your boxers in a twist right now.”

“There is nothing bullshit about this,” Bell growled. “You’re _eighteen_ and he’s--”

“God!” She screamed. “I’m eighteen, not eight! Maybe you should trust me to make my own decisions!”

“Not when they’re--”

“Mistakes?!” She spat in his face. “Wasn’t that the deal? I get to make my own mistakes.”

His eyes flashed with guilt even as his face tightened with anger. “I’m not going to let you make _that_ kind of mistake.”

He was going back on his word, rescinding his trust in her, and it fucking _hurt._ “Nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen because we both know it wouldn’t be right, okay? So stay out of my life,” she yelled, hot tears pricking her eyes. “Stay away from me until you can stop being an overbearing ass!”

Just as the tears spilled over, Octavia shoved through the crowd. She couldn’t be here anymore, not when missing Lincoln hurt and resenting her brother for his protectiveness hurt, not when she just _hurt_. Harper tried to stop her at the door, but she just barreled onward. She needed to be alone tonight.

_Cheers to the college experience_ , she thought sadly as she threw her bed covers over her head and cried herself to sleep.

* * *

 

A week and a dozen ignored text messages later, Bellamy was knocking on her door.

“Let me in, O.”

“I’m studying.” She wasn’t.

“You’re binging Gilmore Girls. I’ll watch it with you. Even if you’re on season 5.”

He thought Logan was a rich, entitled dick, so his offer was an olive branch. Still, she called back, “Go away.”

“I brought you booze.” He paused. “And I’m really sorry.”

Octavia sighed, because there were the magic words. She wasn’t sure if she had forgiven him yet, but--they always let each other in, no matter what. Slowly getting off the bed, she padded over in bare feet to crack open the door.

“Was it the apology or the offer of free illegal booze?” He asked as she stared at him expectantly.

“The booze, obviously.”

He smiled smally, and she let her shoulder relax. Throwing the door open, she shoved her feet into sneakers and grabbed her keys and a coat.

“I’m buying dinner?” Bellamy guessed correctly.

“Yup. And you’re going to listen to me list exactly all the reasons why I, as a grown adult, _could_ handle a relationship with Lincoln if we both decided we wanted one.”

“I’m going to have counterarguments.”

Octavia scoffed but also smiled. “I planned for that, so don’t disappoint me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Despite his teasing tone, Bellamy pulled her in with the crook of his arm and kissed her temple. “I’m really sorry, O. I overstepped.”

“If I get to make my own mistakes, you get to make ones too,” she replied softly, hugging him back.

She didn’t let go until they got to his car.

* * *

 

Leaves fell, and snow fell, and Octavia aced psychology and struggled with English. She made her first solo arrangement for Ark’N’Sass and she laughed her ass off as her brother fell head over heels for Clarke. She pulled overnighters with Monty, went sledding using dining hall trays with Jasper and Harper, and hit the gym with Monroe. She kissed boys, she drank jungle juice, she kissed girls, she danced on couches in dorm rooms. She ordered way too much greasy late-night pizza, started volunteering with a local children’s grief group, and drove up to the top of Mt. Weather to huddle under blankets with her friends to watch the sunrise.

She was a freshman, and she loved it and hated it in equal measure. Then, with only two months left in school, Octavia realized she wouldn’t be a freshman for much longer.

It would be a big change--and meant she’d be rooming with her friends next year, thank god--but it didn’t really change what she wanted it to. She and Lincoln still had years separating them. She still thought about him often though, and, maybe, he still thought about her too.

* * *

 

Octavia showed up at Grounders a few weeks after the flowers had started to bloom around campus. Lincoln wasn’t there, but Nyko was, and so it was him she handed the flyer over to.

“Can you make sure he gets this?” she asked, quiet and serious.

Nyko gave her a curious look, no doubt wondering where her usual brash attitude was. Even so, he nodded in agreement.

Octavia left, hope taking root in her heart that Lincoln would show up to their spring performance. She knew it might not happen, that it probably wouldn’t, but still--she hoped.

* * *

 

“He’s here,” Harper said in a sing-song voice, resting her chin on Octavia’s shoulder from behind.

Her pulse stuttered but she kept her voice steady as she replied, “Who’s here?”

Harper just laughed and pressed a smacking, teasing kiss above her ear. “You know who.”

Octavia leapt up for the curtain to peek into the audience, but Niylah stepped in her way. “We’re going on soon, and it’s time to warm up.”

She tried to dodge her, but Niylah laughed, gripped her shoulders, and steered her away. “We’ll be on stage soon enough.”

Her focus barely stayed on her pitch and volume as they quietly got in tune with each other. It was only when Clarke started giving an emotional end-of-year speech-- _god_ , Bellamy was rubbing off on her--that Octavia pulled her attention fully back to her friends. Harper was resting her head on Monroe’s shoulder, and Maya, their newest addition, was smiling brightly. Caris and Fox had their arms linked, and Clarke and Niylah were exchanging triumphant looks at having managed to not lead their group to complete disaster this year.

“Hands in, aca-bitches,” Octavia called out quietly as the lights dimmed and the MC walked on stage.

Niylah rolled her eyes, and the other girls laughed, but they all did what she said, hands stacked on top of each other’s, bound by melody and friendship.

“Let’s go kick some aca-ass,” Clarke declared, and Octavia snorted before leading them off with _one-two-three break!_

The stage lights were too bright for Octavia to see much of the audience when it was their turn to perform. It helped, not being able to see Lincoln in the crowd. Seeing him again, after so much time apart, might just cause her to forget a line or skip a few notes, and that would _definitely_ make Clarke pissy. So she concentrated on her music and on her girls, slipping into that happy place that singing always took her. She even teared up when they finished off their last ballad, subtly flipping off a snickering Monroe where the audience couldn’t see.

Bellamy met her and Clarke backstage after the show, a bundle of flowers for each of them. Clarke blushed and Octavia rolled her eyes. When she looked up, her heart stopped, because there was Lincoln, leaning against the back wall and waiting. Bellamy looked over too, his brow furrowing. Then he looked questioningly at her.

“Clarke and I will wait out by the car for you,” he said carefully. “That is, if you still want to go to dinner to celebrate.”

“I’ll be out soon,” Octavia promised.

Clarke smiled encouragingly at her before walking out hand-in-hand with Bellamy. Taking a deep breath and trying to steady her smile, Octavia walked over to Lincoln.

“So was I fabulous?” she said in greeting.

He grinned at her, pulled out a single white lily from behind his back, and _oh boy_ did her stomach flip. “You were. Absolutely fabulous.”

It took her breath away, the sincerity in his tone. She took the flower, twirling it between her fingertips. “So you came.”

“I came.”

“What does that mean?”

He laughed a bit, shaking his head in amusement. “Straight for the jugular, always.”

She shrugged. “There’s no point in being vague. Just makes things take longer.”

“Okay then.” He pushed off the wall, hands in his pockets. “I still like you. A lot. And I’m guessing you still like me, if you invited me tonight.”

“I’m not a freshman any more.”

“But I’m still five years older than you.”

“Yes. You are. But that’s not going to change.”

“Octavia--”

“I’m sure.” She took a deep breath and looked up at him, setting her face determinedly. “I’ve done the college experience, or as much of it as I could as a freshman. And--you were right. I deserved to have that. I _needed_ to have it, actually. Because now I don’t just want you. I _know_ that I want you.”

Lincoln hesitated, and she let him. This wasn’t going to be easy--hell, she didn’t know if they would even work out. But Octavia needed to at least try, and that meant she also needed to let him work through his doubts at his own pace.

He surprised her though by leaning in and knocking his forehead against hers. “We’re going to take this ridiculously slow, okay?”

With a laugh, she surged up and kissed him, a little rough, a little dirty, just because she could get away with it, this one time. Lincoln groaned and gave in for one beat, then two, before breaking away.

“You are going to be so much trouble,” he groaned.

“Slow, from here on out,” she promised, serious despite her giddy smile. “I’m with you on that.”

“And I’m with you, from now on.”

Octavia laughed and surged up to hug him, thrilled that she could finally know what it felt like to have his solid arms wrap around her waist, to pull her in, to hold her like he was never going to let her go.

Going slow was going to be pretty great, as long as she got to do it with Lincoln.


End file.
